Casualties of war
by Marine1181
Summary: What happens when a colonial marine survives a massive battle alone.


Casualties of War   
  
The colonial marine ran at a full sprint away from his bunker. The screams of his units followed him as he ran. Six firebats, six marines, including himself had been ordered to safegaurd a high point over looking a cliff. For six weeks they watched the high ground, not getting any action. The troops had grown restless in the last few days before the attacks, and had thought about abandoning the post. One man in general had started the uprising. His name had been Corpral Dylan Hicks.   
  
"Screw this!" Hicks snapped, his features contorted in anger. Hicks had been about twenty to twenty-five and was ruggedly handsome standing a solid six foot with a tall dark and handsom physic. "They stuck us on this backwater shithole!"   
  
"Stand down Dylan!" the marine had said, trying in vain to calm him without starting a riot.   
  
"Fuck you Preston!" Hicks had bellowed, "This is bull shit! The Zerg wouldn't attack a back water dump like this place!"   
  
That's when the call had come that a large force of Zerg was heading their way. "Well you wanted some action, you got it!" Preston had growled.   
  
They had assumed their positions, looking out at their ground just in time to see five overlords, the zergs chief way of transportation lumber into view. Their huge form throbbed as it made its way toward them. The first two dropped two four Ultralisks. The elephant sized monsters with tusks of razor sharp steel, stood before the bunker, virtually blocking the sun out. The next three overlords dropped off a large group of zerglings.   
  
"Oh Shit!" Hicks had whispered, "Were gonna die!"   
  
"Secure that tongue Marine," Preston had snapped, "We open fire when the commander says so!"   
  
As if on cue, a figure about five eleven walked in. His outfit was different from the marines and the firebats. His uniform was black, slick and conformed to his body, he was a ghost. A nuclear weapon pin pointing, telekentic assassin. They were the elite.   
  
"Open fire!" the ghost rasped out. Instantly the fire of the eight millimeter rifles flared into the zerg forces. Their cries were screeches ripping into the terrans ears.   
  
The zergling charged at the bunker, and the eight millimeter slugs ripped into them. Blood sprayed everywhere, ichor washed over the other zerglings but they bounded on. Of the original large group of zergling that had landed, eighteen made it to the bunker. Now it was the firebats turn. They loosed their liquid plasma, scorching the enemies hides and turning nine or so into nothing bat ash and exoskeleton.   
  
"I think we got them beat!" hicks called, a hint of joy in his voice. Unfortunately hicks had spoken to soon. A deep rumbling began to shake the bunker. Preston had enough time to look and see what was coming his way.   
  
"Oh my god!"   
  
The Ultalisks had started to bound their way. At least two tons of nothing but death was bounding toward the bunker made of neo-steel. They'd tear through it like paper.   
  
"Abandon post and fall back to checkpoint alpha-one-nine." Ghost rasped, his voice totally passive.   
  
"Sir yes sir."was the expected reply from hicks.   
  
He ran to the door of the bunker and opened it up. Un fortunately a zergling was right ther waiting for him. It pounced on him like a lion and began to tear at his flesh. It ripped into his robs, tearing flesh, sinew and tendon like butter. Blood began to coat the floor. He screamed and that caught the attention of the rest of the marines, as well as the zerglings.   
  
"Hicks!" Preston screamed as he ran up and layed fire into the zergling. His counter ran down to zero, he quickly ejected the mag and was reaching for a fresh one when the last of the zerglings began to rush in.   
  
"Fuck it!" Preston screamed throwing down his rifle and reaching for his two side arms. The pistols fit lightly into his hand. Ducking down, Preston made it right before a zergling leapt overhim onto another of his companions. As he ran out the door he heard the screams of his fellow troopers.   
  
And that brought him up to date. The rumbling still followed behind him even though the ultralisks were stopping at the bunker. And still even though he heard the scream of his comrades he also heard the sound of Ghosts rifle!   
  
"He was a tough son of a bitch." A wry grin found its way across his face, "Just like ghost!" His smile dissappeared as he regestered two zerglings chasing him. "No way to out run them, might as well fight and die!"   
  
Stopping he hit a switch on his right arm and felt the familiar sting as the needles injected the adrenaline enhancers. "Good to go!" he growled flipping a one eighty to face his enemies.   
  
Hedious monsters, thats how to describe the zerglings. A four armed monster about the size of a large dog, with beady black eyes and a mouth full of three inch long razor sharp teeth. They began to circle him like sharks, their teeth bared and long steady streams of saliva ran from their mouth.   
  
"All right boys, lets dance." Aiming his right handed pisto at the first on on his left he sqeezed the trigger and sent a round flyin its way. He then squeezed it two more times. The first shot went wide while the other two impacted on the creatures flesh. On above the theigh and the other in its mid section. The creature dropped unable to continue the fight. Turning Preston readied himself for the second. This one had to be a bit more experienced for it attacked and batted his arms wide, sending his pistols flying.   
  
"No problem!" Preston thought.   
  
The zergling leapt at preston but the creature met a right hook. The ugly mass of destruction hit the ground obviously stunned. Preston used this to his advantage. He ran up and put his opponent into a head lock. Slipping his K-Bar marine knife from its shieth he slid the blade into the spine of the creature. It spasmed twice and lay still.   
  
Scooping up his pistols, Preston began to head off toward the LZ. After about five kilometers he spoke into his head piece in his helmet.   
  
"Farrow! do you copy?"   
  
"Farrow here, who is this. Name and rank."   
  
"Lance Corpral Preston Bailey!" he replied,"Request immediate e-vac now. Defense position 119 is gone. Out of the force that was there, I'm the only one left. The rest are M.I.A. presumed dead."   
  
"Negative on the e-vac!" Farrow replied through a haze of stattic,"You'll have to hump it out to base camp 161."   
  
"Negative, I need e-vac now!"   
  
"Farrow! Out!"   
  
With that the line went dead. "Great!" Preston growled, and with that he headed off.   
  
The Protoss templar Vizharan couted ahead of his group of Zealonts. He so enjoyed these scouting parties. Time to relax, thats what it gave him.   
  
"Greetings Vizharan." came a call to his right. No alarm was needed, as his companion stepped out frome the underbrush.   
  
"Report my dear Faustin."   
  
"Smoke rises to the east, where a terran bunker once stood, now there are only spore colonies rising." a hint of nervousness sounded in his voice.   
  
"I will contact Tassadar and request orders." Vizharan rplied.   
  
Stopping Vizharan reached out with his mind, feeling himself slip over the kilometer and to the protoss base. Into the nexus his mind flowed like a river, eventually finding Lord Tassadar in his chambers.   
  
"My lord Tassadar!" Vizharan thought, fully aware Tassadar could hear him.   
  
"No need for such urgency!" Tassadar scolded.   
  
"I apologise, but trouble brews. As you already know we are sharing this world with a small terran force."   
  
"Yes, we monitor their camps in case of trouble."   
  
"Now the abominations which took Aiur are now on this planet."   
  
"Then we must destroy them!"   
  
"They have already destroyed a terran outpost." Vizharan relayed.   
  
"Any casualties?"   
  
"All but one were killed."   
  
"Vizharan."   
  
"Yes Lord."   
  
"Hunt down and destroy this last surviving terran. We shall dispatch carriers to dispence of their base. Is this understood?"   
  
"Yes Lord Tassadar."   
  
Coming out of his talk, Vizharan looke to Faustin.   
  
"Time to hunt."   
  
Preston had humped about twelve kilometers since his last transmission. Now he was resting by a beautiful stream in a forest. Sliding off his helmet, Preston looked into the clear blue liquid. He looked like hell, for only being twenty four he looked to be in his mid fourties. He had dark circles under his eyes and a beard had started to show through. But most of all he just wanted to sleep. Then a voice rang through in his head. "Sleep when your dead!"   
  
It was a line his D.I. had often said during boot. Getting up he started off again, this time more determined, tottaly unaware of the templar that shadowed his every move.   
  
Faustin had been following the terran for nearly eighteen kilometers, and his patence was running thin. Suddenly the terran stopped overlooking a butte.   
  
"Finally," Faustin thought,"we shall bring this to a close."   
  
A scene of absolute horror stook in front of Preston. The base had been totally destroyed. Bodies lay in the field, their blood turning the soil a dull red. The smell of death wafted over preston, as did smoke. Bodies of Zerg and Protoss also lay on the battle field, each bleeding their own color.   
  
A sound from behind him projected itself to his ears. He recognised it as an energy blade. Turning he seen that it was a templar.   
  
"Great,"Preston growled," Something to kill.{"   
  
"I am not afraid!" the templar spoke, his voice deep and resonant.   
  
"Well see about that!" he growled tapping the stimpact switch,"you got alot of guts, lets see what color they are!" With that he rushed the enemy.   
  
The energy blade slashed at Preston but his reflexes were sped up. He easily dodged out of the way. His arm then shot out and gripped the templars arm. In a flash he brought his knee up into the creatures elbow, shattering it like glass. That brought a smile to Prestons face. He doubled his fist up and smashed it into the Protoss' face laying it flat. Rushing up he threw it into a full nelson head lock. Forcing its head one way, the protoss tried to resist which only made Preston feel stronger. With such force he snapped the creatures neck so hard the the protoss' face looked at preston.   
  
"I feel alot better." Preston said. Thats when a purple energy blade pushed through his chest.   
  
"I am sorry my friend." came a deep and resonant voice, "but you are a cassualty of war."   
  
That was the last thing Lance Corpral Preston Bailey heard before his vision clouded and he died. 


End file.
